


The Right Move

by astolat



Series: POI works [9]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Dominance, First Time, Inappropriate Use Of Computer Equipment, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wouldn't in a thousand years have imagined getting bent over a desk by Finch, but apparently that was happening today after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Move

**Author's Note:**

> With many thanks to Ces! <3 And as a bit of an apology for where I ended [Bargain At The Price](http://archiveofourown.org/works/685586). ;)

"Harold," John heard himself say, "can I kiss you?"

Harold kept on typing at first, and then his hands slowed and stopped; he turned and looked at John doubtfully. John didn't look away; you couldn't take a move back once it was made, and even though he hadn't really thought this one through, he was starting to have a good feeling about it.

"I don't think that would be a very good idea, Mr. Reese," Harold said.

"I think it would be a _great_ idea," John said, sliding his chair along the desk towards Harold.

Harold edged his own chair back a little. "Perhaps you haven't considered all the implications of—"

"Harold," John said, "it's just a kiss. Don't overthink it."

That did the job: Harold stopped scooting back and glared at him. "If you expect me to believe that you're merely proposing a friendly peck—" but he'd made the mistake of letting John get in range, and indignation kept him still long enough for John to slide a hand around the back of his neck. Harold trailed off as John leaned in, pausing just before touch.

John waited for the span of two breaths. Harold didn't pull away. John closed the last distance between them and kissed him, long and sweet and coaxing. Harold was motionless for a moment longer, and then his hands were in John's hair, gripping hard, and Harold was kissing him back with unexpected ferocity.

John was a little surprised, and then Harold started jerking open his shirt and he was a lot surprised, although he wasn't complaining. Harold stood up abruptly, and John moved with him on instinct, following his mouth and hands, dropping his arms so Harold could shove off his jacket and his shirt. His belt hit the floor almost immediately after. Then his pants were undone, sliding down his legs, and Harold said in an even, commanding voice, "Turn around and bend over the desk."

"And you thought this wasn't a good idea," John said, bemused, even as he found himself obeying; he wasn't sure what was surprising him more, Finch or himself. He was spectacularly turned on. Finch left him there a moment and went rummaging around through various drawers, and even _that_ was a turn-on, hearing him poke around, and then he was back and setting things on the desk where John could glance over and see them: a small tub of Vaseline, a handful of thin latex gloves, a—USB cable?

"This is most emphatically _not_ a good idea, Mr. Reese," Harold said. He took hold of John's boxer-briefs at both hips and pushed them down to puddle around his ankles. He was still completely dressed himself, tie not even loosened. "But since we're going forward with it anyway, I see no reason not to enjoy ourselves."

"I can't argue with that," John said, half to himself. He wouldn't in a thousand years have imagined getting bent over a desk by Finch, but apparently that was happening today after all.

"Now then," Harold said, and wrapped the USB cable around the base of John's cock twice, then secured it with a cable tie. "Is that reasonably comfortable?"

John needed several moments to manage to say, "Yes," because apparently he had a much bigger kink for computer equipment than he'd ever previously recognized.

"Excellent," Harold said. Then he smacked John's ass, open-handed, a solid meaty blow that stung and rocked through him, and John quit trying to do anything but hang on without embarrassing himself, because _oh god yes_ , and by the time Harold finally slid two fingers into him, latex-smooth and slick, John was ready to _beg_ , ready to promise Harold anything he wanted if he'd just—if he'd just—

"Yes, yes," Harold said. "We're _getting_ there, Mr. Reese."

"Not fast enough!" John groaned, and then Harold said, "If you're quite certain," and then his cock was pressing in, hard and fantastic and—refusing to _move_.

"No," Harold said, "— _no_ , John, I don't think you're ready yet," and he was _wrong_ , he was utterly and completely wrong, John was more ready than he'd been for anything in his entire life.

"Harold," he said, not even caring that he was outright whining, " _Harold_ , come on, give it to me—" He tried to writhe his hips.

"I assure you," Harold said, gripping him and holding him still, "I intend to; _after_ you've relaxed somewhat. Trust me," and when Harold put it that way, John groaned and put his head down on his arms to wait.

"In any case," Harold added, "there's no need to rush. We'll be doing this fairly regularly from now on, I would imagine. Once the proverbial equine is out of the barn—"

John shuddered with pleasure and anticipation. Maybe they'd make it part of their morning routine; he'd bring in coffee and tea, Harold would fuck him, they'd start in on the next case. Or maybe a reward, after a case was closed.

"I don't see why not both," Harold said, beginning at last to thrust, and John laughed, breathless; oh, this had definitely been the right move after all.

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback loved! Here or on [livejournal](http://astolat.livejournal.com) or [tumblr](http://astolat.tumblr.com)!


End file.
